


so you love him (turn it around)

by johnnlaurenss



Series: turn it around [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: @@@the author chill, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blowjobs, Bottom Alex, College, F/F, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Marquis de Lafayette, Pining, Top John, gross amounts of fluff, oblivious characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-16 23:38:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9294701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnnlaurenss/pseuds/johnnlaurenss
Summary: It starts when Alex noisily plops down on the bench next to John with a cup of coffee and his backpack. He doesn't say anything, just watches as the coffee swishes in its mug. Alex reaches into his backpack, pulls out a Monster, and pours the entire thing into his coffee. John raises an eyebrow."I," Alex announces, "am going to die."John's heart flutters affectionately and he thinks, god, I love him.Oh.***In which John comes to some realizations, Alex drives him mad, and he learns he's not alone in his Lonely Hearts club.





	1. he realizes

**Author's Note:**

> The John Laurens perspective of [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9552743/chapters/21598949) story.

It starts when Alex noisily plops down on the bench next to John with a cup of coffee and his backpack. He doesn't say anything, just watches as the coffee swishes in its mug. Alex reaches into his backpack, pulls out a Monster, and pours the entire thing into his coffee. John raises an eyebrow.

"I," Alex announces, "am going to die."

John's heart flutters affectionately and he thinks, _god, I love him._

Oh.

" _Oh_ ," John says aloud, weakly. Alex slumps in his seat, entirely unaware of the life crushing realization that is weighing in on John's shoulders.

"It's just," continues Alex dramatically, "that I have five more papers to write, two finals to study for, ten more hours to log in for student teaching, and a recommendation letter to write. I am going to die."

"Then perhaps you should not be sitting with your friends ingesting a caffeine heart attack," Lafayette says from the other side of the booth. Even _they_ seem to be impervious to John's impending implosion. John's heart is hammering painfully in his chest. "Or perhaps you should stop taking on so much work, Alexander."

From beside Laf, Hercules snorts out a chuckle. "If you really think that's something Alex could do, you don't know him that well."

Alex scowls, then promptly takes a long gulp of his caffeine concoction. "I've got plenty of time to get this all done," he says easily. "I've got nothing but time. Time is on my side."

"When's the last time you slept?" Lafayette asks. Alex falters. Laf smiles smugly. "That is what I thought."

"Sleep is for the weak," Alex says defensively. He presses tightly against John's side. "John, defend my honor, our friends are being mean to me."

Warmth spikes up John's spine at the contact. His heart continues to thud in his chest as he thinks, _no, bad timing_. "Um," he says stupidly. Alex doesn't seem to notice John's mental breakdown.

Lafayette shoots John a raised eyebrow. John's glad to have finally caught someone's attention - even if all John can do is blink back. Alex purposely ignores Laf and takes another long drag of coffee. He makes a face.

"I don't need sleep, I have copious amounts of coffee," Alex responds.

"That isn't coffee, Alex, it's ten kicks of energy in one cup," Hercules drawls. John's gaze flicks to him. Alex scoffs again and Hercules turns to give John an exasperated look. He stops when he sees the panic in John's eyes. "You alright, buddy?"

John blinks again. Lafayette is still staring at him with a raised eyebrow, and now Alex is looking at him in alarm. "Um," he says again. He can't quite articulate today. "Yes?"

Alex puts his hand on John's thigh and squeezes. John nearly has a heart attack, but Alex's eyes are filled with pure concern. "What's going on?" Alex demands. John feels like his heart is going to burst out of his chest and explode in confetti and fireworks that scream, _I just realized I'm in love with you, idiot!_

John would absolutely rather _die_ than see that happen.

He shakes his head, practically yanks Alex's hand off of him. "I'm good," he says, forcing his mouth to move. "Spectacular. Just thinking about this, uh, argument on Twitter I'm totally going to win later."

Alex beams brilliantly at him. "I've trained you well, young padawan," he cheers, throwing an arm over John's shoulders. He doesn't seem to notice when John tenses. "So, what's the good ol' fight today?"

John swallows back the thought that's screaming, _holy shit holy fuck I'm so in love with you I love you!_ and says, "Um, just some asshat trying to pull the 'all lives matter' bullshit," John lies. "Dumb straight white boy, you know the type."

Alex scowls. "Privileged asshole bastards," he murmurs. He practically inhales the rest of the mixture in his coffee cup. "Alright, gentlemen, and gentleperson, I'm afraid this is where I must bid you adieu. I have so much work to do, after all, blah blah blah."

John watched mutely as Alex picked up his backpack and his mug and slid out of the booth. He turned to blow them all a kiss before darting away. Lafayette turns to John immediately.

"What is wrong?" they ask. Hercules head snaps up so fast John thinks he might get whiplash.

John just blinks. "Nothing?" he says slowly. Lafayette looks unamused.

"That is a lie," they say easily. "One moment we were doing fine, then the next Alexander sat down next to you and you began behaving skittish and distant. You are pale as a ghost. So, what is wrong?"

John bites his lip.

"Are you mad at Alex?" Hercules presses. "Are you guys fighting? Does he not know? What did he do?"

"I'm not mad at Alex!" John bursts. His cheeks flush. "He's not - I'm not mad at him."

Hercules sits back in the booth again, eyes wide. "Oh," he says with understanding. His gaze flicks to Lafayette, and John sags in his seat. There goes his plan to keep his feelings to himself and hope they went away.

" _Oh_ ," Lafayette repeats sourly. "John, I live for drama! What is going on?"

John shakes his head and rapidly wraps the rest of his bagel into a napkin. "Nothing," he responds sharply. "I'm not mad at Alex. I just... got some news. I wasn't ready for. That's all. I gotta go, I'm going to be late for class. Lee will skin me alive if I'm late again."

He leaves without another word.

John can hear Lafayette and Hercules calling after him, but he keeps walking despite it. His heart is still pounding, his head is rushing, he feels like his skin is on fire - he fucking misses Alex, misses him as though he has the right to, and it stings because _of course I'm in love with him, why wouldn't I be?_

John shakes his head again. He throws his bagel away when he walks past the garbage - he seems to have lost his appetite.

 

* * *

 

Alex has been his best friend for three years; they've been living together for a year and a half. John can hardly a remember a time when Alex wasn't a constant in his life. With Alex brought an onslaught of emotions, a hurricane of tidal wave arguments about anything and everything. Alex was passionate and loud and angry - and John was the same. Eventually they realized they were fighting on the same side, and stop arguing with each other in favor of arguing with other people.

Since then they've been inseparable.

Alex dated off and on, and John never did. Alex set John up on blind dates to go out on, and John never did. Alex always wanted to try new things, always asked John to go with him, and John always did. They had a healthy relationship. John never discouraged Alex from his dreams. When Alex realized law wasn't the path for him, that he wanted to be a teacher, John was his biggest supporter. When John decided he wanted to put more focus on his art, Alex managed to help him sell three of his paintings.

This was John's life for three years.

Until moments ago, when he realized how painstakingly clear it was that he was in love with his best friend.

He's read enough of these stories that he knows how it's supposed to end. But he knows enough about his life and Alex's life to know that their story won't have that kind of ending.

Alexander Hamilton is a force unto himself. Anything and anyone who gets in his way is at risk. He won't stop until he's untouchable, and he has a goal he will stop at nothing to reach. John can't get in the middle of that. John kills everything he touches. Always has, ever since he was a little boy. He's claimed the title of fuck up, and he wears it with solemn acceptance and refuses to get close to people.

Alexander somehow managed to evade John's curse, and John isn't about to ruin the only relationship to las just because some feelings got in the way.

So, yeah, maybe John is a self sacrificing fuck. But he's poisonous and Alex has big plans, and he can't be the thing that stops Alex from changing the world.

He ends up skipping class: Lee isn't that important anyway. Probably would be glad for John's absence, since John actively argues with him on all his subject matter. He's blissfully relieved to come home to an empty apartment; Alex is probably picking up extra hours student teaching, or at the library, or with Eliza. For a fleeting moment, John's heart says, "You wish he was here, you dumb fuck."

Then his mind is all, "Shut up, you're the reason we're in this mess."

Both are right.

John pathetically collapses into bed and, like the drama queen he is, burrows himself under his covers until he's a burrito. He sleeps with an excess of pillows and blankets; always has, making actual nests of softness in his bed. Today that excessiveness shields him from the world.

"Fuck," he says aloud. "Okay, so I'm in love with him. We can deal."

He thinks, _what comes next_?

 

* * *

 

When Alex gets home a few hours later, he bursts into John's room, collapses into John's bed, and immediately curls up next to John.

John thinks, _okay maybe we can't actually deal._

"Hello?" John says, now awake from whenever he'd dosed off. Alex plasters himself to John's side.

"I'm so tired!" he cries.

"You're a drama queen," John chastises. He's more awake now that Alex is holding onto him like John's his life line. Once again, he feels like he's been run through an electrical socket - his every nerve is lighting up where Alex touches him. John is scared to move even an inch.

"You're right, but I'm also so tired," Alex murmurs. His face is pressed right into John's shoulder. For a fleeting second John is glad he's wearing a hoodie; he thinks he'd actually die if Alex had nuzzled into his bare shoulder.

John nearly has a stroke at the mere thought of it.

He wonders why it took him so damn long to realize he was in love with Alex in the first place.

"Maybe if you weren't fucking crazy and trying to do eight years worth of school in ten seconds, you wouldn't be so tired," John retorts, and he hastily turns on his side. Alex wastes no time plastering to his back and wrapping his arms around John. John squawks indignantly.

"John, I'm tired and cold, comfort me!" Alex whines. His breath is hot where it blows by John's ear. John absolutely dies.

"No," John grits out, and he shoves and wrestles with Alexander for a moment or two. This is something else he's used to; he and Alexander often grapple like five year old siblings do. Eventually it ends with Alex half tangled in John's sheets, John halfway out of them, both lying side by side. Alex throws his hand over his face.

"Remember when I told Laf and Hercules earlier that sleep is for the weak?" Alex asks. John nods. "Turns out, Im the weak. I'm tired as fuck and this is me admitting I need a nap. Oh, also I'm sleeping here now."

John groans. "This is my bed!"

Alex somehow manages to flip himself under all the rest of the blankets. "I'm sleeping here now," he repeats, blinking at John owlishly. Then he closes his eyes and falls asleep.

"Oh," John says softly. He's hit headfirst with another wave of affection. For a moment he just lays there next to Alex.

Alex's hair is falling out of the half-hearted bun he threw it in early, tendrils of dark hair framing his face. The bags under his eyes have become more pronounced, but even when he's asleep he manages to take John's breath away. Alex's hands are gripped tightly on the blankets wrapped around him. John is so stupidly in love with him it's almost a neon sign above his head.

And so John smiles, clambers out of bed, and makes his way to the kitchen. He grabs a bottle of water, makes Alex's favorite sandwich, and leaves them on the bedside for when Alex wakes up. Even if Alex never knows of the time John spent in love with him, at least he will know John would take care of him.

John goes and sits on the couch. He's barely reaching for a laptop when his phone buzzes twice.

 **From: The Demigod™**  
[3:15] hey m8 you alright?

 **From: Their Highness**  
[3:14] hercules has said not to bother you but i am worried. is everything alright john???

John sighs. Wonders what to say. Hercules seems to understand already, so John supposed he needs to tell him the whole story. As for Laf... John decides it's best to wait for more people to find out.

 **To: Their Highness**  
[3:16] i'm fine. just got some news about my fam down south i wasn't expecting. martha is graduating early and i wasn't informed. just a little bummed but i'm alright

That, at least, is the truth. John would rather die that lie to Lafayette.

 **To: The Demigod™**  
[3:16] not really

 **From: The Demigod™**  
[3:17] you just figured it out didn't you?  
[3:17] i'm sorry brother  
[3:17] same boat tho

 **From: Their Highness**  
[3:17] i am sorry. tell me if there is anything i can do for you mon cheri

 **To: Their Highness**  
[3:17] thanks laf. gtg alex is home

 **From: Their Highness**  
[3:18]  <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

 **To: The Demigod™**  
[3:18] laf?

 **From: The Demigod™**  
[3:18] yeah  
[3:18] they're somethin else you know?

 **To: The Demigod™**  
[3:20] yeah. so is alex

John puts his phone down next to him and settles back into the cushions. So, Hercules knows. And Hercules relates. At least they have that. And Lafayette, John knows, has his back no matter what. And Alex...well. There's his problem, he supposed. Alex is Alex, and John can't stop or change the way he feels.

He's starting to feel like garbage, so he reaches for Alex's laptop to turn on a show on Netflix. They share an account; it's grossly domestic and John realizes he really, _really_ should have seen this coming.

He's only forty minutes into an episode of The Get Down when Alex comes stumbling out of the room with one of John's blankets wrapped around his head and body. John's heart skips a beat.

"Hi," Alex mumbles. In his hand is the bottle of water John left him. "Thanks for the sandwich. And the water. And the bed."

John swallows. "Asshole," he states. "You're welcome."

Alex nods towards the laptop. "What are you watching?" John tilts the screen and Alex peers at it. He makes a happy noise at the back of his throats when he sees Zeke come on screen. "Good choice."

John laughs, shakes his head. "Wanna watch with me?"

Alex bites his lip. John's heart thuds rapidly in his chest and he thinks, _here, let me do that instead_. "I should really do some schoolwork," he hedged. John slides to the left side of the couch.

"Grab my laptop and work then," he suggests. Alex's eyes light up. He goes back to John's bedroom to grab the laptop, and John laughs and heads to the kitchen. When he hears Alex pattering back down the hall, he calls, "Go ahead and start the episode, I'm making tea."

"You're going soft, Laurens," Alex calls back. John puts the kettle on the stove. "Make coffee, dumbass."

John tuts lowly. "Nope," he responds, already digging through their cupboards to find the tea. Lafayette bought them this special blend a few months ago, something to help with stress and relaxation or some shit. John's into it because it's organic and relaxing. Alex thinks it tastes like magic in a cup. "You're cut off from coffee till we're a hundred percent sure the coffee and Monster mix is out of your system."

He hears Alex groan from the living room, but a moment later the show starts and John knows he's won. It doesn't take long for their water to boil, and he's settling back in next to Alex only moments after the episode had resumed. Alex takes the tea without a word and John grins in silent victory. He's pulled up his schoolwork on John's laptop and is steadily getting his essay done. John folds his legs up on the couch, holds his cup of tea between his cold fingers, pretends to be watching the show. Alex rests his knee on John's, casually, like it took absolutely no thought and John shivers at the contact.

"Cold?" Alex murmurs. His eyes are trained on the screen. John makes a noise, not really answering. His entire body is on fire.

Wordlessly Alex tosses half the blanket over John's legs.

It's domestic and easy, familiar as they've done it time and time before, and John's heart starts to hammer in his chest. He prays silently that Alex can't hear it.

And so John tries to deal.

 

* * *

 

Hercules texts him later and he ends up leaving Alex with his Netflix and schoolwork to meet Herc for drinks. They sit in some podunk bar, some hipster place they stumbled into not that long ago that serves the best garlic cheeseburgers. Hercules wordlessly hands him a Sam Adams when he arrives, and John takes it and sits.

"So," Hercules says as John takes a long drink. "We should start a club."

"Stupidly In Love With Our Best Friends," John declares sourly. "It'd be a fucking riot. We could meet on Tuesdays and knit."

Hercules snorts. "Thursdays are bowling night."

John shrugs. "As long as there's alcohol and ice cream, I don't care what we do at this stupid club meeting."

Hercules chuckles at that too, takes a sip of his beer.

"Ever entertain the fact that Alex might feel the same?"

"Nah," John says. He swirls the beer in its bottle. "Alex goes a thousand miles a minute. I could never be on the same level as him. Besides, you know him. When he wants something he goes after it right away. If he wanted me I would know by now."

Hercules hums noncommittally.

"Ever think that Laf might feel the same?" John hedges. Hercules makes a soft noise.

"Take a good long look at Lafayette, then a good long look at me. They're beautiful, sophisticated, cultured, smart, sharp as a fucking whip. And what am I? A fashion major from a small town. Even if they ever returned my feelings, it wouldn't be for too long. They deserve someone smart and cultured and sophisticated too. Not an immigrant who sews."

John sighs. "What a couple'a fuck ups we make, right?

They fist bump.

And they try to deal.


	2. he tries

Winter Break is seemingly uneventful.

John doesn't go home because his family doesn't want him there, and Alex doesn't go home because he has no family. Instead of returning to France, Lafayette chooses to stay and visit New Jersey with Hercules and his family. The Schuyler sisters go upstate to stay with their father, and they invite Alex and John.

They decline, politely, but end up packing their bags and heading upstate a weak later out of sheer boredom. The Schuyler's are gracious hosts, even have a home big enough that Alex and John don't have to share a room.

John isn't disappointed.

Really. He _isn't_.

Christmas also goes by without much hoorah. Both Alex and John were too poor to buy the extravagant gifts they wanted to give to the sisters, but with Hercules' help they did manage to knit soft scarves and beanies in each of the sisters' favorite colors. Needless to say, the scarves and hats are fairly popular in the opinions of the Schuyler sisters.

For New Years they head back into the city, still sans Hercules and Lafayette, and ring in the new year at a party Dolly Payne throws. Eliza sidles up next to Alex, says loudly, "Be my kiss at midnight?" and Alex nods in agreement.

John tries not to be disappointed.

He doesn't do so hot this time.

He's far too drunk and far too sad by the time the countdown starts, and he plants a sloppy kiss on some guy who had been grinding on him earlier. It's barely a peck, and it's incredibly wet for whatever reason, and John stupidly wishes the guy could have been Alex.

He looks just in time to see Alex pulling away from his quick kiss with Eliza. They're both smiling and laughing it off, and John painfully realizes they'd make a cute couple.

He drinks a bit more after that.

God, he could write poems about how cute he and Alexander would be.

"Thing is," he tells some drunk girl at the party. "Liz is a great girl. But me, I'm - well, she's better than me, but Alex and I, we'd make a really hot couple you know? And I know he's into dudes, because he told me he was after I came out to him, and it was great. So I know potentially we could. Could - we _could_ be a cute couple. Alex is really hot. What was I saying?"

The girl laughs, touches his arm. Her red lipstick is smeared just a bit on the side of her mouth. "Is Liz hot?" she asks.

John shrugs. "I'm super gay. I don't know. She's pretty, I guess."

The girl has a nice, twinkling laugh, like champagne. John likes the sound of it. "Don't worry, darling, I'm super gay too. That's why I asked if she's hot. I could use a distraction tonight."

John peers at her from above the rim of the beer bottle he has raised to his lips. "You, too?!" he shouts. He's so glad he has someone else who knows what he's going through. The girl nods. She has nice brown curls that bounce, like his. It's a nice thought.

"Yeah," she says. "Saw her kissing someone else at midnight though. Kinda kicks you in the balls you know?"

That startles a laugh out of John. "Bitch, I know it!" he says. He raises his bottle in her direction, and she taps hers against his. "To watching the people we love kiss other people."

"Hear, hear," she replies, and she chugs the rest of her beer. John's impressed.

"Impressive," he murmurs. The girl winks at him.

"You're very drunk, sweetie, I think it's time you find your boy and go home," she tells him. She's sweet. "I'm gonna give you my number though, okay, and I want you to text me so we can go get brunch sometime and bitch about our love lives some more. Can you do that?"

John nods, and she takes out his phone and punches in her number. He thanks her when she tells him her name, and she laughs her champagne laugh again and sits him down and leaves him be.

Alexander finds him later, a minute or a thousand later, and frowns at him. "Did a girl just give you her number?"

"Yes," John says defensively. He crosses his arms. If Alex is allowed to kiss people at midnight, John can get people's numbers.

"John," Alex says, exasperated, fond. "You're gay."

John sags in his seat. "Fuck it all."

Alex laughs. He doesn't have a champagne laugh. He has a laugh like whiskey, warm and aged and cultured and rough, exactly the kind John loves. "You're drunk," Alex is saying, and John thinks no shit. "Let's go home."

"You kissed Eliza," John says miserably, and Alexander falters.

"John," he begins, but John shakes his head. He tries to stand up, stumbles against Alex, tries not to pass out.

"Let's go home," John parrots, clinging to Alex now. "M'tired, I want my bed."

"You're gonna have a bitchin' headache tomorrow," Alex murmurs, but he takes John home regardless.

He passes out when they get home.0

When John wakes up the next morning, he's in his own bed with Alexander on one side of him, and a tall glass of water and some ibuprofen on the other. He chugs all of it and silently thanks the gods for Alex. His migraine is the size of a small mountain, and it's too bright in the room, and for a brief moment all he can remember from the night before is the name Maria.

"Alex," he whispers, horrified. Alex makes a grunting noise. " _Alex_. Did I hook up with a girl last night?"

Alex groans. "John, you're _gay_."

"I know!" John snaps, and immediately regrets it. He burrows back under his covers. "Fuck. I _know_. But all I can remember from last night is her name..."

"Ugh," Alex whines. He shifts so that he's laying on his back now and squints at the bright lights. "You didn't hook up. You kissed some ugly dude at midnight, then you were talking to some girl, she gave you her number, I brought you home, you threw up, I passed out on your bed, then I guess you passed out too."

"I'm gonna throw up," John says, so he does.

Alex is still laying in his bed when he comes back.

"You asshole," John whispers, head still pounding and spinning. "I puke out a lung and you stay in bed?"

"It's comfy and warm," Alex defends from wherever he is under John's thousands of blankets.

"It's not my fault you have one pillow and one blanket on your own bed," John retorts, aggressively collapsing back in bed and tugging the covers over himself. He tries not to think about throwing up again.

"Happy fucking New Year," Alex says, and John smacks him in the face with a pillow.

 

* * *

 

Hercules and Lafayette finally come back three days before the new semester starts, and the gang goes out to celebrate at a pub where the latest game is on. John relaxes under the lack of pressure with the whole thing. He's missed his friends, missed the group aspect. He may be stupidly in love with Alexander, but the group setting made it easier to not think about how badly he wanted that.

They're walking in a clutter, hurrying through the brisk temperatures of winter in New York, and Lafayette pushes Alex with a laugh and Alex jumps on their back. Lafayette staggers a bit but continues to carry Alex, and John's heart is so fucking full he could cry.

He feels kind of stupid about that.

But he's here with his friends, two of whom he hasn't seen in a while, and he's enjoying the night.

Hercules pulls John aside as they walk into the bar, watching as Alex hops off of Lafayette's back and stumbles through the door. "Hey," he says quietly. "Can we talk real quick?"

John grins wolfishly. "What, wanna tell me all about the gross pining you did for Laf over the holiday since I'm the only one you can talk to about it?"

"Sorta," Hercules murmurs, and the way he says it makes John slow down and truly look at Hercules. Something's changed, something had softened the edges of Hercules' eyes, something inside him just seems to be smiling and radiating out of him. John's heart thuds painfully twice in his chest before Hercules continues. "Laf and I, we got our shit together. They told me to pull my head out of my ass and I did, and we're happy. We're...together. They love me, just as much as I love them. Something shifted over Christmas break, neither of us could pretend anymore. We're _happy_."

John can't stop the grin that spreads across his face. He yanks Herc into a strong hug. "That's great, man!" he enthuses. "Honestly, that's such great news. I'm happy for y'all. If anyone deserves it, it's the two of you."

Hercules laughs. "Thanks, mate," he says. "Figured I'd let you in. Guess I'm officially kicked out of the club now?"

" _Bitch_ , you think you can just waltz in here with your gross ass love story and expect to still be in my club?" John replies, shoving Herc a little bit. Hercules laughs again. "This is a secret club, and your secret is out, you asshole. I've got other people who can fill your spot now."

"Guess I deserve that," Hercules says. He throws an arm around John's shoulders and they continue to walk into the bar. Alex and Laf have taken a booth in the corner. "For what it's worth, I think you could take a shot, man. Rumor has it certain people confide in Laf the same way you confided in me."

John smacks Hercules' arm. "I didn't confide in you, you figured me out!" he argues. He quiets down as they near the booth. "Those are two entirely different things. Just like your situation and my situation."

Hercules basically shoves John into the booth next to Alex.

For a fleeting moment John is sitting on Alex's lap, one arm thrown hastily around Alex's neck to catch his balance, and with both of Alex's hands on the small of his back. Alex blinks owlishly at John, shocked, and John blinks back.

"I think it's the same thing," Hercules announces, and he sits down next to Lafayette and presses a quick kiss on their lips. "Hey, baby."

"Whoa!" Alex shouts, and John startles at the noise. When Alex's hands tighten on his back he nearly startles again. "When?! _What_?! When did this happen?"

Lafayette laughs. Even something about _them_ has changed, making them lighter and brighter than John's ever seen them. "The day before Christmas. Hercules and I finally realized how foolish we have been pretending all this time that we didn't feel the way we did."

Alex whistles. "Lucky it happened to you," he mutters. John tenses.

"What?" he whispers.

He's suddenly very conscious of the fact he's still sitting in Alex's lap. He carefully maneuvers himself off, and - well, if he's still pressed closely to Alex's side, he can't really be to blame, right?

"What did you say?" John asks again.

"Lucky for them," Alex repeats. His gaze darts to Laf and Herc. "I'm happy for you guys. Now I don't have to listen to Lafayette write sonnets about Hercules' hands."

Lafayette turns bright red. "That was _one_ time!" Lafayette shouts. Hercules pats their cheek affectionately. "Once."

John snorts. "You, too?" he says to Alex. "I thought I was going to go insane if I had to listen to Herc tell me one more time about how good Laf's legs look in high heels."

"Oh my god," Hercules whispers, and he buries his face into Laf's shoulder. He flips John off. "Fuck you, John Laurens."

"You would," John retorts.

"You would _not_ ," Lafayette warns. John winks at Lafayette. "Though I can think of some who might..."

Alex coughs and flags down the waiter. John and Lafayette both laugh when Hercules stops hiding his face to order his alcohol. The night is light from there on in, Lafayette and Hercules recounting their tales while in Jersey and Alex and John making up stories so their own break doesn't seem boring in comparison. Alex drapes his arm around John's shoulders at one point in the night, and John pretends he doesn't nearly stroke out at the mere contact.

When John finally makes a break for the bathroom, he texts Maria.

**To: VP Maria**  
[9:18] shit fucking shit fuck  
[9:19] when alex starts acting particularly affectionate and you run away to the bathroom

**From: VP Maria**  
[9:20] YOU DUMBASS  
[9:20] GET BACK IN THERE AND GET YOUR MAN  
[9:20] jfc it's like i've taught you nothing  
[9:20] go!! be!! affectionate!! back!!

**To: VP Maria**  
[9:21] shut?? the fuck ur mouth??? you have no room to talk miss "i can't go after her the timing isn't right"  
[9:21] i ain't goin after my man till you go after your woman

**From: VP Maria**  
[9:21] firstly the timing isn't right soooo  
[9:22] secondly my extenuating circumstances are a lot more serious than yours so  
[9:22] bitch  
[9:22] you have no reason not to!! if he's flirting go for it

**To: VP Maria**  
[9:22] i don't know if he's flirting. this is how he acts with everyone. i don't want to fuck up where we are right now for something i don't know he wants

**From: VP Maria**  
[9:23] you're helpless  
[9:23] we still on for brunch tomorrow?

**To: VP Maria**  
[9:23] yes. gtg

**From: VP Maria**  
[9:23]  <3<3<3<3<3

And so John goes back out, where his friends are happily celebrating their love story, where his own love sits blissfully unaware of everything John wants, where he can pretend for a fleeting second that he's certain everything will turn out okay.

Alex pats John's thigh twice when he sits back down, and John tries to remind himself that things _have_ to turn out okay.

 

* * *

 

Maria beat him to brunch, waits for him at the cafe when he comes in five minutes early. In front of her are two coffees and two glasses of water.

"Morning, sunshine," she says drily. John plops down into the seat next to her. She nudges the coffee towards him. "Figured you might need this."

"Thanks," John says gratefully, pulling it closer and wrapping his cold fingers around it. "It's fucking ice cubes out there."

Maria laughs her champagne laugh again. "Welcome to New York, baby."

John chuckles at that, pulls away from his warm coffee to throw his hair up into a bun. His curls were unruly as hell today, but he wants to at least look presentable around Maria. The woman looks put together from head to toe.

His eye catches on a band on her fourth finger.

"Are you _married_?" he blurts, shocked. Maria's eyes dart to the ring.

"Ah," she murmurs. She waggles her fingers. "Extenuating circumstances, remember? In the middle of a nasty divorce right now."

John blinks. "How old are you?" he wonders.

"Twenty one," she answers, and John's eyes widen. "It's not that young. I got _married_ young, it was a mistake, I'm trying to fix it. It got nasty. I'm learning to deal."

"Maria," John says softly. She smiles sadly at him.

"It's alright, John," she assures him. "I'm a tough girl. I learned from my mistakes. I'm trying not to make them again. You live, you learn, you grow, you know? I used to be a mess, now..."

"Now you're the most put together person I know," John says honestly. That earns him another soft laugh. "No, I'm telling the truth. No one else I know would suggest brunch. What kind of adult shit? No one else looks as put together as you do, seems as sure as you do. I could have sworn you were older just by the way you hold yourself. You're strong as hell and I barely know you."

"We're changing that, darling, don't you even fret," Maria says with a wink. "So. Enough about me. Let's talk about the boring stuff so we can get to the fun stuff later."

So they do. They talk, they drink. They order, they talk, they eat. John tells Maria about his passion for social work, his love for art, the paintings he's sold. How he played baseball in high school, how now he boxes to keep in shape and to destress. Maria excitedly tells him of her work specializing in art identification. She tells him how eventually she'll get her degree in art history and similar fields and go on to be a specialist in identifying authentic art for audits and auctions, eventually even recovering artifacts. It's cultured and amazing and John can't say he's surprised.

"And you go to Columbia?" he asks.

"NYIT," she corrects. John's eyes bulge out of his head.

"Holy _shit,_ " he says, amazed. "So you're a genius."

Maria grins. "So are you, don't sell yourself short. Columbia is a huge deal."

They talk some more about their hobbies, John about his art and sketches and Maria about her love for ice skating. She confesses at one point it was her goal to be a tattoo artist and shows John the ink on the inside of her wrist.

"I wanted to expand the piece but I've never had the time," she murmurs as John traces his fingers over the linework.

"Beautiful," he says honestly.

Eventually, when their plates are cleared and bill paid, Maria stands and extends her arm to John. "Care to go for a walk where we'll freeze our asses off?"

"Is this where we talk about the fun stuff?" John says drily. Maria tugs him out of the restaurant.

"I first met my girl at the tattoo parlor," Maria confesses. "I was there with a friend. She came in half scared out of her mind but confident and she took my breath away. Got this beautiful little thing on the back of her shoulder. I coaxed her through the whole thing, told her the shoulder was nothing compared to the wrist and that she was doing great. We've kept in contact ever since, hang out as often as not. She went upstate for the holidays though, and the party was the most recent and the last time I saw her."

John's quiet for a minute, processing. "I first met Alex on the quad," he says quietly. "We bumped into each other at the front of the debate table. For a while all we did was gripe at each other and argue in debate. Eventually someone pointed out we were fighting on the same side so we teamed up and started arguing against some douche named Jefferson and his boyfriend. We've been best friends since. I guess we were never really platonic, but that's kind of how Alex is, you know? So it never really phased me. Till I realized I was in love with him."

Maria hums in acknowledgement.

"Like, _stupid_ in love with him. Like, if he were to say 'I wish the moon were closer' I'd find a way to lasso it and bring it closer. If he were to say 'I wanna go home' I'd buy him a ticket to the caribbean. If he were to say 'they're the love of my life, be my best man' I'd do it without hesitation. It's shitty as hell but I'm head over heels for him."

"I know the feeling," Maria murmurs. She squeezes his arm. "I'd give anything for her, she's my best friend. But she's so much more than that too, you know?"

"Where do we draw the line?" John agrees. "When does it stop being out of friendship and start being out of love?"

"You're a poet, John Laurens," Maria teases. He smiles down at her, eyes a little sad.

"For him, yeah," he agrees.

 

* * *

 

 

Alex seems to have taken a liking to John's bed, as John has come home on three separate occasions this week to find Alex passed out under his sheets. His heart does a fucking tango every time he sees it.

"My bed!" he announces when he walks into his room, throwing a pillow at Alex's head. "Since when do you sleep so much?"

"Since it's the first week of our last semester and I only have two classes this time and they're easy as hell," Alex retorts. "Now I finally have time to sleep. Plus the kids I'm teaching this semester are tiring me out."

John wrinkles his nose. "Gross, you're _that_ kind of teacher?"

Alex squawks and tries to throw the pillow back at John. He misses by a good few feet. " _No_ ," he shouts. "They just ask a lot of questions. It's exhausting."

"They sound like someone else I know," John muses, and he looks at Alex pointedly. He collapses into his desk chair.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alex says defensively. He wraps the sheets tighter around himself.

"This is still my bed," John reminds him.

"It's still comfier than mine, I can't apologize for that," Alex states. John sighs.

"I ought to buy you pillows and blankets for your own bed so you'll leave mine," he mutters.

He won't, though.

Instead, he goes online and orders Chinese and eats it in his bed with Alex, and they watch shitty old movies on his laptop and talk about Lafayette and Hercules, and everything else in their lives. John eats Alex's fortune cookie, and Alex adds 'in bed' to the end of both of their fortunes. John feels like he could fly.

He wonders for a moment if he could stay happy just the way things are now. Maybe he doesn't need anything else. Just grossly domestic scenes with Alex, like this. He thinks it could be enough, and he's happy.

Then Alex's phone goes off, with a text from Eliza, and Alex lights up.

The illusion shatters.

"Go hang out with her," John suggests, trying not to sound sour. Alex looks at him conflicted. "Go. I know you want to."

Alex opens his mouth to protest but John shakes his head and repeats himself. "Alexander," he snaps. " _Go_! I'm fine with leftover Chinese and Netflix."

Alex doesn't say a word, just climbs out of John's bed and shuts the door softly behind him.

John hears his own phone buzzing with texts, but he pulls the covers over his head and closes his eyes and thinks, it can wait.

 

* * *

 

**From: VP Maria**  
[7:32] JOHN  
[7:32] JOOOHN  
[7:33] is alex's last name hamilton?!?!?!?!?!  
[7:36] JOHN  
[7:45] holy //shit//  
[7:45] john it's the same alex. text me ASAP


	3. he acts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we've reached the conclusion - not that it was much of a long journey. This story's rating has been bumped to Explicit for a reason; viewer discretion advised (sinners).

John wakes up with a pounding headache and a phone full of unread text messages.

 

**From: VP Maria**

[7:32] JOHN

[7:32] JOOOHN

[7:33] is alex's last name hamilton?!?!?!?!?!

[7:36] JOHN

[7:45] holy //shit//

[7:45] john it's the same alex. text me ASAP

[8:15] is everything okay?? are you okay

 

**From: Eliza Schuyler**

[7:59] John! Get ahold of either Maria or me, ASAP. This whole thing has been a huge misunderstanding. We’re trying to fix it!!! <3

[8:16] I don’t know why you aren’t responding but I hope everything’s alright. Really, we’re trying to fix a mistake!! Be safe<3<3<3

 

John blinks blearily at the screen and glances at the time. Its just after ten pm. All he can think is, _misunderstanding_? He wonders why Maria asked about Alex’s last name. He lays back down on his bed, puts his phone back on the table, covers his eyes. He’s _exhausted_. He wonders why Eliza is texting him, too. Of all the people in the world, it had to be _her_. And she had to be _nice_. John wanted to hate her, just because Alex was choosing her, but he couldn’t. He has the fleeting thought of why Eliza wants him to get ahold of her and Maria.

 

Wait, since when do Maria and Eliza know each other?

 

John lurches up.

 

“Oh, _shit_!” he shouts, already scrambling to reach for his phone. He’s shaking as he dials Maria’s number.

 

“John,” Maria answers, breathlessly. She’s whispering, hushed, but there’s an urgency in her voice John’s never heard before. “Holy shit. About _time_!”

 

“Maria,” he gasps. “Your girl—the girl you—the girl you’re in love with. It’s Eliza?”

 

“ _Yes_.”

 

“Eliza _Schuyler_?” John clarifies.

 

“Yes, John. _Yes_.”

 

“Oh, my god,” John breathes. “So she’s not. She’s not going after Alex, then, because she has feelings for you. But your situation is complicated, I know. But. Oh my god, she’s not going after Alex—oh my god, _Alex_ is the guy you saw her kissing. It’s the same person!”

 

“John!” Maria says, and she’s laughing through the phone. “It’s more than that. Liza’s been telling me about this friend she has who is head over heels for his best friend. Been in love with him for a while now. Gross, unrequited, pining, love story worthy love for _a long time_. She’s the only person who knew for the longest time.”

 

John’s heart is pounding. All he can think is, _Eliza knows she knew she figured it out she knew about me she probably told Alex._

 

And then Maria says, “ _John, she was talking about Alex_.”

 

His heart stutters to a stop.

 

“What,” he whispers.

 

“He’s in love,” Maria says giddily. “He’s in love. With _you_.”

 

John draws one sharp breath.

 

“I have to _go_.”

 

He hangs up. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do, he just knows he has to _go_ , he has to find Alex and fix this and change this. Alex _loves_ him. Alex—Alex told other _people_ how much he loves John. John could—

 

God, he could fucking _fly_.

 

He’s shaking so hard he can barely walk as he lunges off his bed and stumbles towards his closet. He has to get dressed, he has to find Alexander and—and _fucking_ —he doesn’t even _know_! John doesn’t know what comes next, where he goes from here, what lies in their future. He’s in love with a hurricane who stopped long enough to love him back, and John’s over the fucking moon. He wants to shout it from the rooftops. He wants to find Alex and kiss the living shit out of him. He wants to find Alex and slam him against the wall and kiss him until his fucking knees give out. God, he—he _loves_ Alex so deeply, it’s shaking him to his very core.

 

John manages to grab a jacket and some boots, and somehow is able to dial Hercules’ number. It doesn’t even phase him with Lafayette’s tired voice answers instead. “John?” Laf croaks, voice still deep from sleeping. “What is going on?”

 

“Alex,” John says breathlessly. He’s trying to lace up his boots and put his jacket on and hold a phone at the same time and he’s still shaking so hard he can barely stand. “I—he—do you know where he is?”

 

“He is your roommate!” they groan, annoyed. “Alex lives with _you_.”

 

John shakes his head. He can’t stop _grinning_. “No, he. He left at seven and he hasn’t been home since. Have you seen him?”

 

“Did you call him?” he hears Hercules ask. He sounds just as tired as Laf does. John knows he must have woken them up but he’s bursting at the seams with sunlight and he can’t find it within him to feel bad. “He probably knows where he is.”

 

John nearly drops his phone. “I did not call him,” John answers. He sounds like he’s been running a marathon. “I—I need to know where he is but it has to be a surprise, he can’t. Guys, he can’t know. He _loves me_.”

 

“I am fairly sure Alexander is aware that he loves you,” Lafayette says drily. “That will not come as a surprise.”

 

“Wait, you know?” Hercules shouts. “About fucking time. God, we’ve only been hinting at it forever. You guys are a fucking mess, you know? So self sacrificing you were willing to waste your entire lives hopelessly in love without ever saying anything. Idiots.”

 

“I have to find him,” John’s saying. “I have to—”

 

Lafayette cuts him off. “I will call him and ask. Then I will text you. Then Hercules and I are going back to bed, and you are not to call either of us until at _least_ eight in the morning. I don’t care if you get engaged or adopt a puppy or get arrested. Eight in the morning. Are we clear?”

 

John wants to fucking scream. He doesn’t care about anything else except Alexander right now, he’d agree to be Lafayette’s personal servant for a month if it meant getting to Alex. “Yes,” John yells, giddy. “Just, just find him? Thank you, oh god.”

 

Lafayette mutters in French for another moment until the phone disconnects. John finally gets his boots on and stumbles out of his room towards the kitchen. His entire body is on fire, he’s so happy he could explode. He grabs a glass and forces his hand to steady long enough to run it under the tap and guzzle as much water as he can. While he waits for Laf’s text, he dials Eliza.

 

“Hello?” she picks up.

 

“Hi,” John says timidly. “I owe you an apology.”

 

Eliza’s quiet for a moment. “Whatever for?”

 

John takes a deep breath. “I,” he begins. “I tried to hate you, and it wasn’t justified. I had a one track mind, and for some misconstrued reason I thought that you were standing in my way, and I resented you for it. It was wrong of me, and I was childish, and I am sorry.”

 

Eliza laughs, twinkling and surprised. “You hated me? I would have never guessed.”

 

“I know,” John murmurs. “You’re kind of impossible to hate. But I still tried. And I wanted to. I was a dumbass, and it wasn’t fair of me to think that you were the person standing in my way when it was actually me.”

 

“John,” Eliza says softly. “I don’t think you were standing in your way. You’ve got it now, right? You understand?”

 

"I do," he agrees.

 

"Then go get your man!"

 

“Alex isn’t home yet,” John tells her. “I don’t know where he is.”

 

“He tried to come over,” Eliza admits, “but I was with Maria. He left when I told him I needed to be with her tonight, I haven’t seen him since.”

 

Something in John’s brain slows to a stop. “Didn’t he go over for a date?”

 

Eliza makes a confused noise. “Alex and I have never gone on a date. He most definitely wasn’t coming over because of that.”

 

“But,” John says helplessly. “You guys kissed on New Year’s.”

 

“John!” Eliza shouts, exasperated. “He wanted to kiss you. I wanted to kiss Maria. Neither of us thought we could have that. It was a friendly kiss, we’re friends. That’s all we’ve ever been. Did you really think we were more?”

 

John grins again. “I really am an idiot, aren’t I?”

 

Eliza starts to respond, but John tenses when he hears the telltale signs of Alex outside the door. His keys jingle as he puts them in the deadbolt to unlock the door, and John whispers, “Liz, gotta go, he’s home!”

 

“Go get your man!” she encourages again, and the line disconnects. John shoves his phone into his pocket and steps out of the kitchen into the living room just as Alex opens the door. Alex startles when he sees John.

 

“Oh,” he says softly.

 

He looks ethereal. His hair is tossed into a messy bun, a habit he picks up on from when he’s got a lot on his mind. His sweater is just the right amount of too big, too soft, incredibly Alex. His face is tired, unreadable, and John just stands there like a doofus with a huge grin on his face.

 

“I thought you’d be asleep,” Alex murmurs, putting his keys on the hook and slipping out of his shoes. He rubs at his eye and takes a step forward. “It’s late, don’t you have class tomorrow?”

 

John shakes his head. He doesn’t trust himself to speak yet. He knows as soon as he opens his mouth a floodgate of words will come tumbling out, and he won’t be able to stop it. He needs to let Alex speak first.

 

Alex peers at him sadly. It becomes devastatingly clear that John recognizes the look on Alex’s face because he’s seen it on his own so many times. Alex is ready to throw away what he wants for the sake of who he loves, and John feels the same way.

 

How ecstatic he is that he gets to have _both_.

 

“I don’t know why you were mad at me earlier,” he hedges, and John almost cries at how earnest he sounds. “I probably deserved it. But I’ve had a long night. Can we just…be okay tonight?”

 

John can’t stop it anymore. “Can we be more than okay?” he asks.

 

In an instead he’s in front of Alex, hands holding his face and body pushing his back until they’re pressed flush against each other, flush against the door. He doesn’t waste another second.

 

Alex gasps when John kisses him, and it’s delicious and beautiful and his lips are soft and yearning and driving John mad. Kissing Alex is like coming home, it’s like seeing Alex in his bed, like drinking warm coffee on a cold day, like curling up on the couch knowing he has nothing to worry about at the moment. Alex is adaptable and eager and kisses without resolve, his hands grip tightly at John’s back and shirt, his hips pressed snugly against John’s. It’s maddening and beautiful and John can’t believe they’ve gone so long without it.

 

He’s breathless when Alex pulls away just a fraction. John’s fingers are tangled in Alex’s hair, Alex’s own hands still tightly gripping John’s back. “You, too?” he whispers, wrecked, and the ghost of a laugh escapes John’s lips. Alex’s own soft chuckle mixes with his; a beautiful harmony. John could drown in it.

 

“Me, too,” he agrees, and that’s all it takes before Alex kisses him again. He slides his tongue along John’s bottom lip, tentative and hot, and it takes John by surprise enough to elicit a gasp from him. Alex takes it all in stride, and the moment he licks into John’s mouth, John’s knees give out a bit. Alex laughs. “Asshole,” John mutters, and Alex shuts him up by kissing him again.

 

They stay like that for minutes, hours, days—caught up in the feeling of it all. Its more than just the feeling of each other, discovering each other through heated kisses and flush bodies and roaming hands. Its the feeling of knowing their love is returned, that this is just the beginning, their story is only on the opening page.

 

“I love you,” John whispers, finally, forehead pressed against Alex’s. Their breath mingles together as they pause and just hold on.

 

“I love you,” Alex says back. His grip on John tightens. “God, I’ve loved you for so long.”

 

John laughs, giddy. He can’t keep it in. He runs his thumb across Alex’s cheekbone. “I never thought this would happen. I never—I never even imagined you’d ever feel the same. God, you’re leagues above me. You’re a hurricane and I’m barely a breeze. I don’t know how you had the time to stop for long enough to spare me a second glance.”

 

“John, I can’t take my fucking eyes off of you,” Alex whispers. “You occupy—everything. My thoughts, my space, my dreams, my life. You’re the best part of me, even before all of this. Do you know what hurricanes do, John? They destroy things. But you, you remind me how to be gentle. You’re loud and you’re passionate and you’re an asshole, but you care so deeply for people and you don’t have a hateful bone in your body. At least ten petty bones, but not a hateful one.”

 

“Hey!” John laughs, shutting Alex up with another quick kiss. “Don’t be rude to me, you _love_ me.”

 

“I love you,” Alex agrees. “With every bone in my being.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The bed feels different when Alex lays him down in it.

 

His sheets aren’t as soft as the velvet caresses Alex traces on John’s forearms with his fingers.

 

His pillows aren’t as gentle as the kisses Alex trails from John’s earlobe down his neck to his collarbone.

 

His blankets aren’t as warm as the hot, reassuring weight of Alex as he settles in on top of John.

 

Alex has been in his bed countless times before, even once or twice earlier that day; but now, it’s entirely different. All of John’s senses are heightened—everything _screams_ Alexander. All he can smell is Alex’s subtle cologne, all he can feel is Alex’s hands and legs and lips surrounding him, all he can see is _Alex Alex Alex_. His own hands search for purchase in Alex’s hair, his own legs spread of their own accord and Alex lay between them, his own lips desperately mouthing Alex’s name.

 

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Alex whispers, near his ear. His breath is hot and low and sends chills down John’s neck.

 

“You’ve got me forever,” John manages to say, and Alex’s lips are on his once again.

 

Alex has been in his bed before, but never like this. John hopes he never leaves.

 

With his hands still in Alex’s hair, John maneuvers him until Alex is biting and licking at spots on his collarbone. Part of John knows there’s no way he’s going to be able to hide this—the other part of him wants to scream, _I’ve waited so long for this_. He can’t manage to say anything, becoming undone simply by Alex on top of him teasing the skin of his neck and shoulders. Every nip of teeth sends thrills down John’s spine, every lick elicits a soft moan from the back of his throat. He keeps his hands in Alex’s hair, tugging and pulling. Alex’s own hands settle finally on John’s hips, pushing him into the bed and holding him there. He has strong hands, strong fingers, and the pressure of them on his hips is enough to cause most of his blood to rush south.

 

He’s lightheaded now, but he never wants it to end.

 

Against his thigh, he can feel the growing pressure of Alex’s erection. It’s enough to draw out a long, breathy moan from John, one that’s enough to take Alex away from marking up his neck. Alex raises an eyebrow at him, but John just bites his lip.

 

Immediately, one of Alex’s hands flies to John’s face, his thumb tugging John’s bottom lip away from his teeth. “Here,” Alex whispers. Their lips meet once again. The kiss turns quickly into something a lot more needy when Alex nips at John’s lower lip and _tugs_. John gasps, but Alex is quick to swallow the noise and press his lips to John’s again. “Shhh. I’ve got you.”

 

John whimpers, but Alex tells the truth. He makes slow work of kissing John near an inch of his life, taking him apart with more nips and licks. John is trembling by the time Alex sits up on his lap and pulls John up by the collar of his shirt. “God, you’re hot,” Alex murmurs, eyes focused on the marks on John’s neck and shoulders. John could _giggle_ , he’s so fucking giddy.

 

“You’re one to talk,” John whispers. He runs his thumb along Alex’s cheekbone, a tender gesture that Alex leans into out of instinct. “You take my fucking breath away.”

 

Alex snorts. “Romantic asshole,” he teases.

 

John growls, and in one quick movement he flips them over and lays Alex down and— _oh_.

 

That’s a sight he could get used to.

 

Alex’s hair spreads across the sheets and pillows, haloing him as he looks up at John with wide, blown eyes. John’s hands rest on either side of Alex, Alex still gripping his shirt, John straddling him. He supposes he wasn’t joking when he said Alex took his breath away. “Holy shit,” John pants. Alex seems to agree.

 

“Too many clothes,” Alex gasps, tugging on the collar of John’s shirt. John wastes no time in disposing of the shirt and quickly working Alex out of his sweater. For a moment all John can do is stare at Alex in wonder as Alex traces his fingers up John’s abdomen. “Fuck.”

 

“You’re beautiful,” John says again, and he kisses Alex again before he can respond. Alex growls into John’s mouth, their teeth knock together for a brief moment, and then their kisses grow more intense and needy as Alex grips at John’s shoulders and John presses his hands onto Alex’s hipbones. Alex lets out a moan that goes straight to John’s dick, and he shudders violently at the sensation. Alex grins against John’s mouth.

 

“You liked that?” he asks, and John blushes. “Holy fuck, when you blush, you blush _everywhere_.”

 

John shuts him up again.

 

Eventually John moves to a spot on Alex’s jawline, sucking and nipping and marking just as Alex did before. Alex makes quick work of unbuttoning his pants and pushing at John’s hips until they break apart for long enough to take them off. John in turn takes his time as he removes Alex’s pants, pulling down underwear as well and exposing Alex’s cock. He trails kisses up and down the insides of Alex’s thighs after he throws Alex’s pants somewhere in the room. Alex gasps and groans the closer John gets to his dick, coming close but never all the way. He latches on to a soft spot of Alex’s thigh and sucks sharply, leaving what is sure to be a deep mark in the morning. Alex cries out, and the sound of it alone is enough to spur John along. He leaves another two marks on the same thigh, then two more on his other one. Alex alternates between gripping the sheets and gripping John’s shoulders, crying out and begging for more. “Please,” he finally gasps. “John, I— _more_ , please, John, I need more—”

 

John doesn’t need much more persuasion.

 

He takes Alex’s cock in his mouth without much preamble, and the sudden warmth and wetness of his tongue on the underside of Alex’s dick is enough to make his eyes roll back in his head.

 

John’s tongue flits along the tip of Alex’s cock, he takes in as much as he can, he licks and sucks. At one point Alex shouts his name, and it’s hot enough to make _John_ moan. Alex shudders and cries out more, seeing white as he tries to ride out the sensation.

 

John’s mouth on him is absolutely maddening, his hands find their way into his curls. He pulls out of instinct when John licks along the tip again, and John stutters and shakes at the sensation. Alex’s hands in his hair, gently persuading John’s mouth as he fucks into it—John’s soaring again, higher than he’s ever gone before. Alex is warm and thick and a nice weight in John’s mouth, Alex’s hands a good pressure, the skin of Alex’s thigh along John’s cheek soft.

 

John pulls away suddenly and looks at Alex with pupil blown eyes. “There’s,” he croaks. “Um, there’s—lube. In the drawer.”

 

Alex hastily grabs it and tosses it to John.

 

John kisses his way back up Alex’s body, trailing licks and bites and kisses up his thighs and torso and neck until he presses another hot kiss onto Alex’s lips. His hands rest on Alex’s knees, pushing them apart until he’s spread across John’s bed. He starts to press kisses all along Alex’s thighs again, his hands staying on Alex’s knees to keep his legs spread. Alex moans and writhes under John’s ministrations until John can feel him shaking under his hands.

 

“Please, please, _please_ ,” Alex chants, gripping at the sheets and rocking his hips up. “I need—John—”

 

“Shhh,” John murmurs, breath teasing the inside of Alex’s thighs. “I got you, baby girl. I got you.”

 

Alex lets out a sharp cry when John slips a finger in, back arching and body shuddering. John grins wickedly, kissing Alex’s hipbone. He starts to pump his finger in and out, keeping one hand on Alex’s hip to keep him steady. He’s spurred on by the breathy gasps and moans escaping Alex’s lips, parted and wet and beautiful. The sounds encourage John to slip in a second finger, scissoring and twisting and pumping until Alex is gasping again and again. He curls his fingers, and—

 

“Holy _shit_ ,” Alex shouts as John hits his prostate. “Holy— _John_ — _hijo de puta_ _—_ fuck.”

 

John quickly adds another finger and stretches Alex out was much as possible. Alex whines again, back arched and head tilted back as he rides the tidal waves of thrills coursing through his body. He rocks back on John’s fingers, relishing the stretch until it isn’t enough anymore.

 

“I’m ready,” he pants. “I’m ready, I’m—”

 

John pulls his fingers out and makes his way up Alex’s body until he can press a firm kiss on Alex’s lips. “I love you,” he reminds him. He’s still giddy that he gets to say it, that he gets to remind Alex time and time again, that Alex feels the same. “I love you so damn much.”

 

“I love you too,” Alex whispers. He looks wrecked, debauched laying there amidst John’s sheets and pillows, looks like he’s belonged there his entire life. John—John’s overwhelmed for a minute at how fucking happy he is. He’d give up anything in the world if it meant he got to keep this, forever.

 

Slowly and surely, he lines himself up and pushes his way into Alex. Alex’s legs wrap automatically around his waist, his hands twining in John’s curls, and they both gasp for air when John’s fully in. For a moment he can’t moved, to enraptured by the dumbstruck look on Alex’s face, his hair still haloing his head, the way he looks all beautiful and trusting underneath him. It takes him a minute, takes Alex tugging on a curl and whispering, “You good?”

 

Then he moves.

 

And god, how the earth absolutely shifts on it’s axis.

 

Alex makes a noise that’s caught between shock and pleasure, and John’s shuddering at the sound and the overwhelming sensation of it all. He and Alex move together, hips rocking, Alexander’s cock caught flush between them. The friction is delicious and sweet and _hot_ and John can’t get enough of it. He starts to rock faster, pounding in and out and reveling in the way Alex tightens his legs on John’s waist and encourages him to keep going.

 

He’s ha good sex before, and he’s had great sex, and now—sex with Alexander, that was a category of its own. It was mind-blowing, it was ecstatic, it was everything he didn’t realize he was missing. Alex moves his own hips in tune with John, meeting him in the middle and matching his pace, every bit his equal. John never knew it could feel like this, the nice burn, the tightness of Alexander around his cock, the feeling that their hearts were beating as one. It was hot, sure, the hottest John’s ever felt, but it’s amplified, magnified to the nth power just out of sheer knowledge that this is someone who he _loves_ who loves him in return.

 

“God, god,” Alexander is panting. “John, you’re— _I love you_ , you feel so good, god, you’re—keep going don’t stop keep…”

 

He trails off, gasping when John strikes his prostate, back arching again and head tilting back. John kisses him again, angles his hips so he can hit that spot again and again. Alex pants against his lips, hands still gripping John’s curls.

 

“I’m—” John starts to say. He takes a shaky breath. “I’m. God, I’m close.”

 

Alex presses a soft kiss to the side of John’s mouth. “Come for me, baby,” he whispers, and a shudder runs through John. “I’ve got you. Come on, come for me, John.”

 

John  reaches up to cup Alex’s chin with one hand, kisses him again, rocks in once, twice, three more times, then he comes apart. 

 

He rides his release with soft kisses against Alex’s lips, shaking and shivering and reveling in the press of Alex’s mouth on his own. Alex is trembling around him, close to his own release, and John pulls out and reaches up to wrap his long fingers around Alex’s cock. It doesn’t take much before Alex is coming in his hand, just a twist and tug and pull here and there before he’s unraveling beneath John’s touch and gaze.

 

John kisses Alex again, slow and lazy, taking a moment to just absorb and enjoy each other. Alex is soft in his arms, pliant as he unwraps his legs and lays down and lets John kiss him. God, John thinks his heart could actually explode. 

 

“Alex,” John murmurs, finally, later, when they’re cleaned up and lying next to each other under the covers. “Alex, I’m so sorry it took so long for us to get here.”

 

“Shhh,” Alex whispers. His eyes are bright and beautiful and tired. “Don’t apologize. It’s time well waited. I’d wait a thousand lifetimes for this.”

 

John smiles, grins, curls up against Alex and listens to his heartbeat.

 

“I’m so happy,” John whispers. “I love you.”

 

“I know, baby,” Alex murmurs. “I know. I’m happy too. I love you too.”

 

And so they try to deal.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**To: VP Maria, Eliza Schuyler, The Demigod™, Their Highness**

[4:13] i know it’s early but i had to say it while it was on my mind. i love you guys, and thank you. thank you, more than anything. so i love him. and he loves me. and we’re never gonna change that

**Author's Note:**

> i am no longer an active part of the hamilton fandom, but if you need: you can find me on [tumblr](https://feuillyys.tumblr.com) crying abt les mis or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/tannscotts) posting about various things.
> 
>  
> 
> comment, kudos, bookmark below!


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